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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768725">One Second</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels'>GEGabriels</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Fire, Gen, It's Pretty Much Just Angst, Modern Era</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:33:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Courfeyrac, wake up," Combeferre whispered into the man's ear, "Courfeyrac." He rasped, his voice barely rising any higher then a murmur. He knew, right then, that his friend was gone. And his mind, his sanity, left entirely. He was shattered. He was gone, along with all of his friends. He could hear the people around him talk, hear tiny glimpses of their conversation, as he gasped for breath, feeling the firewoman's gentle restraint again.</p><p>It only took one second to start the devastating fire, that destroyed everything. Or, ANGST ANGST ANGST.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bahorel &amp; Combeferre (Les Misérables), Combeferre &amp; Bossuet Laigle, Combeferre &amp; Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Combeferre &amp; Enjolras (Les Misérables), Combeferre &amp; Feuilly (Les Misérables), Combeferre &amp; Gavroche Thénardier, Combeferre &amp; Grantaire (Les Misérables), Combeferre &amp; Jean Prouvaire, Combeferre &amp; Joly (Les Misérables), Combeferre &amp; Les Amis de l'ABC, Combeferre &amp; Éponine Thénardier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Second</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know nothing about how real life fires work.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In a split second your world can go to hell. All it takes is one second, and your entire life can be shattered before your eyes. One second can leave everyone screaming in pain. One second. All it took to start the fire was one fucking second.</p><p>There were multiple people who set it, authorities say. That makes sense. A fire that large, blocking off that many escapes couldn't possibly be the work of the one person. A fire that had grown that large can't possibly be the fire from just one person. .</p><p>Combeferre could remember the event clearly. The day had been normal. They had been in the back room of the Musain, meeting. Everything had been normal. Enjolras passionately ranting. Courfeyrac pretending to listen, but actually not paying attention at all. Grantaire pretending to not pay attention at all, but actually listening. Eponine had been trying to get an enthralled Grantaire's attention. Feuilly and little Gavroche had gripped onto Enjolras every word, fire in their eyes, as they too dreamed for a better tomorrow. Joly and Bossuet had been having their own conversation in the corner, occasionally making out, just to spite Enjolras. Bahorel had been casually listening. Marius had spent the entire time pining over Cosette, of whom he had brought along. Jehan had been writing something, possibly related to what Enjolras had been saying. And Combeferre had been listening to Enjolras, a proud smile on his face, at just how far his friends and their cause had come. The world they were fighting for seemed possible. And then, a second had gone by, and Joly had asked this.</p><p>"Do any of you smell smoke?" And then, the fire had begun. At the door. Blocking it off. Joly and Marius had screamed, as Enjolras quickly took charge.</p><p>"Does anyone have something they can put this out with? Anything?" He had calmly asked, the rest of the Les Amis coming up with nothing. Enjolras' gaze had flickered towards Combeferre, for a second, and Combeferre met his eye. Enjolras had simply nodded, before turning towards the front window. All of the windows in the room had been left open. It was a hot and dry summer, and the heat was nearly unbearable, "Alright," Enjolras had said, the rest of the Amis giving each other nervous looks, as the fire began to creep forward on the wooden floor. Wooden. The floor was wooden. The tables were wooden. The chairs were wooden. The walls were wooden. "We can use the windows too-" The second he had said windows, the stick on fire had been thrown through one window. Then the next. Then the next. That was when Combeferre had known all of this was intentional. And Combeferre had then a very big problem. The fact that he had been sitting the farthest back in the room. And the fire from the door, which was in front of Combeferre on the wall, had spread down the middle of the room, separating Combeferre from everyone else.</p><p>"<em>Combeferre</em>!" He heard Courfeyrac scream. Through the flames, he could see Courfeyrac trying to struggle towards him, Bahorel holding him back. Combeferre could hear Enjolras yelling something, as fear filled his body, paralyzing him. He took a few shuddering gasps, coughing from the smoke. The fire in between him and his friends was too large. He could barely see them. Just figures, as the smoke blurred his vision. It hurt to breathe. The firefighters will come. The firefighters will come. He told himself this. Gave himself hope. Combeferre was a rational person, however. He knew there was no hope. And there was fire, spreading towards the figures of his friends. There were screams, and shouts, and cries. Combeferre could hear Gavroche's cries, the cries of a child. Bahorel's deeper shouts. Everyone's warping together. There was fire slinking towards him, too, snarling. Combeferre didn't care about that. He cared about the firewall in front of him, separating him from his friends. He could feel tears streaming down his face, as he coughed again and again from the smoke. He was curled up in the corner. And there were his friends, yelling and shouting.</p><p>Until there were only two figures left standing. The others had fallen, as fire had engulfed them. The two people remaining were grasping on tightly to each other, that much was clear. The figures didn't last much longer, as flames creeped up their legs, and they fell, as all of the others did, into the fire. Combeferre knew those screams. Enjolras' scream. And Grantaire's. Combeferre looked up at the flames in front of him, inching closer to him by the second. He felt like passing out from the smoke that was suffocating him, burning his nostrils, and his eyes.</p><p>"Come!" He had shouted, "You have taken my friends, finish me." Combeferre didn't want to burn. Perhaps that made him a coward. He was frightened, and despite his mind, which literally wanted him to throw himself into the fire, his body inched backwards, what little hint of sense he had remaining taking control. His heart was beating rapidly, and his tears stained his shirt. He screamed, placing his forehead on his knees. And willing it to be over. Willing himself to see his friends again. To be with them. And the fire, such a cruel creature, paused. Combeferre opened his eyes, feeling as if he were looking into something mortal, as red and yellow flames, tinged purple, stared back at him. And that, was when he had blacked out.</p><hr/><p>He had woken up on the pavement of the road. Which made no sense to him. This wasn't Heaven. It was Earth. There was a woman leaning over him, a firefighter.</p><p>"Monsieur, can you breath well?!" The firefighter had immediately asked. Combeferre had taken in a shaky breath. There was a slightly raspy tone to his voice, and breathing felt strange and hoarse like.</p><p>"Yes," Combeferre replied, still confused at where he was. And then, he had looked over the firefighter's shoulder, despite her trying to block his vision from the sight he was met with. There was the Musain. What was left of it. The fire was real. And the Musain was gone. The building had entirely collapsed, and was burnt black. There were wooden sticks occasionally peeking out of the building, out of place. Combeferre heart stopped beating for a second, and he let out a bitter, choking, laugh. He tried to move forward, the firewoman gently keeping him in place. He struggled against her, but his body was much too weak from the entire trauma that had occurred to actually have his efforts lead him somewhere. There was a man, standing close to the building, struggling against two people, screaming,</p><p><em>"My daughter, my daughter!"</em> Combeferre could vaguely recognize the man as Cosette's father. There were people, probably from various news stations, around the scene with cameras. And then, Combeferre saw Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac was on the ground. His eyes closed, and his body covered in soot. But he wasn't burned. There was a person, a man, sitting beside him, gently covering him with a blanket, hiding him from Combeferre's sight. Combeferre didn't understand. Why weren't they letting Combeferre see Courfeyrac?! He struggled again, this time more intensely, in the woman holding him's arms. He broke free of her grip, running towards Courfeyrac, and tearing the blanket off of his friend before anyone could react. And there was Courfeyrac. His eyes closed, and his face pale. Combeferre had a spark of hope. He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone. Then, he placed his ear on Combeferre's chest, hearing a choked sound from the man who had covered Courfeyrac up.</p><p>"Courfeyrac, wake up," Combeferre whispered into the man's ear, "Courfeyrac." He rasped, his voice barely rising any higher then a murmur. He knew, right then, that his friend was gone. And his mind, his sanity, left entirely. He was shattered. He was gone, along with his all of his friends. He could hear the people around him talk, hear tiny glimpses of their conversation, as he gasped for breath, feeling the firewoman's gentle restraint again.</p><p>
  <em>"The boy, Henri Courfeyrac, found in corner, breathed in too much smoke-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Identified the two remains, Julien Enjolras, Auguste Grantaire-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Alexandre Combeferre-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"They had some threats of the fire the night before, but shrugged them off as normal threats, grandfather of Marius Pontmercy states-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Should we move him-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Leave him be-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Attack on the groups politics-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Called parents-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Can't identify others-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Valjean girl remains found-"</em>
</p><p>Pictures, images, flew through Combeferre's mind. Memories. He could practically see them. Feel them. Relive them.</p><p>
  <em>The feeling of Enjolras as an infant in his arms, already with a full head of blonde hair, blinking his wide blue eyes up at 4-year-old Combeferre's hazel ones.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Look, Combeferre, look, I made a sign for the rights of the people!" The rosy cheeked first-grader proudly held up his picture for 5th-grader Combeferre to see. Combeferre wasn't entirely sure what it was. He just knew it had a lot of blood. "That's… Lovely, Enjolras."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Enjolras as an adult, smiling, fire in his eyes, as he talked of the future, as if he could see it in front of him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tiny Courfeyrac as a baby, squirmy, and sweet. Crawling into Combeferre's leg on purpose, and constantly wreaking havoc in his less-than-pleased parents house.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Courfeyrac as a kindergartener, Combeferre pushing him on the swings, as Courfeyrac laughed, and smiled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Courfeyrac as an adult, punching a guy in the face for insulting Combeferre's appearance, "That's my best friend right there, dude. You mess with him again, you're dead."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The less-than-satisfied look on Grantaire's face, after he finished yet another painting, the rest of the Amis praising him. But Grantaire only wanted one man's praise.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eponine, her rambunctious but charming spirit always taking Combeferre's breath away. He had never gotten the chance to ask her out. He had been planning on it. Next Wednesday.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jehan, a tender, loving soul, reading poetry to the group that made even Enjolras himself shed tears.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Marius, though annoying, who would always help a friend out. Marius, who would always grin, and lighten the mood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cosette, such a delicate angel. A true saint. Cosette, always organizing fundraisers to help families in need, and giving Combeferre a sweet compliment as he walked by her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Joly, nursing Combeferre and Enjolras through particularly nasty bout of flu with unending patience. Always had a smile to spare.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bossuet rescuing a kitten from the side of the road, when everyone else drove by it. His clumsiness, though constantly horrifying Joly, was accepted with exasperation from the other Les Amis members, often leading to amusing situations as well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Feuilly, a hard worker, making a point to help all of his friends with their items and tasks for the upcoming protests.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bahorel, always so protective, and ready to defend a friend, attempting to give Combeferre boxing lessons, despite knowing that Combeferre was a hopeless case. But not getting angry at him, and instead laughing, and gently correctly Combeferre's atrocious fighting stance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And little Gavroche, sucking on a popsicle in the summer, while doodling on the sidewalk with Grantaire, using chalk. Just a boy.</em>
</p><p>It had taken one second to start the fire that killed all of them.</p><hr/><p>Combeferre awoke with a jolt, tears and sweat running down his face. He was in bed. Safe. It was just a dream. The fire. Just a dream. Just a dream. He couldn't be sure, though, until he saw Enjolras and Courfeyrac. Combeferre climbed out of bed, grabbing his spectacles from the nightstand, as slipping them on. He shuddered, as he walked down the hallway, as if he was expecting flames to jump out behind him.</p><p>He slowly opened Courfeyrac's door, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the brunette sprawled out across his bed, snoring slightly, a smile on his face even in sleep. Combeferre could see his chest rising and falling through the bright yellow blanket the man had splayed overtop of him. Combeferre then left, because it hurt one's eyes to be in Courfeyrac's multi-colored room for more than a few seconds. He opened Enjolras' door, very quietly, as he knew that his blonde friend was a rather light sleeper. And there was Enjolras, curled up in his blanket that resembled the French flag, his chest rising and falling steadily, his feet moving slightly. Even in sleep, Enjolras was never still. Combeferre turned to leave, but heard a quiet,</p><p>"<em>Ferre</em>?" From behind him. Combeferre turned around, his tear-stained face and wide eyes meeting Enjolras misty-with-sleep blue eyes. Enjolras glanced Combeferre over for a second, before speaking again, "Nightmare?" He enquired, Combeferre giving a single small nod. Enjolras rolled over in bed, creating space beside him, and motioning for Combeferre to slip in to said space. Combeferre gratefully did so, wrapping his arms around Enjolras, and pulling him close. Touching him. Knowing that he's alive. Enjolras snuggled into his stomach, the two men falling asleep within minutes.</p><p>If they had stayed awake one second more, they would have heard the small beep Enjolras' phone, which was on the nightstand, made. As a fire threat was texted to him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Brought to you by another episode of: What The Flipping Heck Did I Just Write</p></blockquote></div></div>
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